Anyways, since I'm not there anymore I don't mind saying I went to Charlottesville, VA for a few weeks. I stayed in a motel for a couple of nights and the first morning a guy approached me, average worn-out laborer looking type, he said "where are you from in Vermont?" because of my plates. I said "Burlington", where he was from too. He told me quite an amazing story, he skipped Vermont right before his court date to get sentenced for fifteen years. Fifteen years? You know how I feel about prison, so I said "what did you do?" He told me he beat up a cop. I was like "cops are rude", commiserating with him, sure, why not skip out on a fifteen year prison sentence that is too harsh. But he was like "I really fucked him up," his story was he was walking home drunk and a cop started giving him shit and pulled his stick out and the guy said he knew martial arts and broke the cop's jaw and lower back. Some other things the guy did gave me a clue. First of all, he had the hem and haw story about "the connection" and supposedly different kinds of weed for various prices and he gave me a small amount (I got sick, whether it was from that weed or not I don't know but don't hand me laced weed if I suspect anything from now on I WILL have it tested) and wanted to know if I had smoked any yet when he came back an hour later, some deal about how I couldn't knock on his door, which he wasn't even staying there at that motel, just "happened" to be visiting friends, because it would "cause a lot of trouble" so he knocked on my door that evening, wanted to know if I wanted to smoke, no thanks I feel ill, he no surprise had not made the connection but I guess he was going to smoke me out. One queer thing he did was he mimicked something I said, just a short sentence. He didn't really mimic it obvious, he just repeated it. I thought it was wierd. Also he said he was 33 I was going to guess 43. You know how tired out people get roughish reddish looking skin around their eyes? So I was thinking about things. I do have very mixed feelings about cops and courts and prisons because I think it is inhumane, I think our culture generates the crime. Yes, please lock up child abusers, pedophiles, rapists, violent people, kidnappers and murderers. I think any human is justified in killing a child molester right as they walk out of prison, too, because they are too dangerous. Criminals like Enron, what I really think is they should be barred from ever making money or owning anything for the rest of their life. They should be forced into a life of begging to survive. But back to the question at hand. I was thinking for a day about the cop he supposedly fucked up, and I would be pissed if I were that cop and the guy split. Plus, I have met violent drunks and if they can't control their violence and they can't not drink, they should be locked up where they can't hurt anybody. The man is a walking time bomb, plain and simple, and since I figured it wasn't any of my business whether or not he got nabbed because of a phone call I made, and since he was wierd to me and I wanted to know if his story was even true, I called the Burlington P.D. I only had his first name but the dispatcher said she worked there for 21 years and she would have remembered if a cop got hurt like that. So the story was fake, or he did it somewhere else. I like knowing. He and his "friends" there might have been part of the gang stalking thing, they did leave their motel door open I walked past it and there was stuff in the room, no car, and the door left wide open. I thought it was pathetic.
I had another wierd encounter in C-ville. Any single thing I write about may or may not be related to the gang stalking, but I don't mind writing it out. Walking towards the granola grocery entrance I passed a dirty homeless man. I had to go back and offer to buy him breakfast, which turned into a back and forth, he wasn't hungry but he needed shoes. I said I would buy him boots but I didn't know the town very well so I got a phone book to look up shoe stores but he was fixated on WalMart. I told him I wasn't buying him plastic shoes. I was trying to figure out what kind of boots and where, he did suggest Goodwill, I was thinking am I really going to let this man in my car with all my dogs. Anyways, again he wanted to go to WalMart to get the boots, so finally I had to say "I hate WalMart, I'm not taking you to WalMart," and he got mildly incensed but I couldn't tell if he really meant it and he said "save the receipt!" Which was a ringer for this ugly dude I felt sorry for in Burlington, a really bad-looking, boring man from New Orleans who didn't have a mom to take care of him when he had a hernia operation last Spring so I drove him to the doctor a couple of times so he could get more heroin. Spence Schwarz had told me one funny story last spring, before I knew he was scamming me along with Malibu, Brian Zareva, Troy, Erin Hannigan, Fat Pete Satches, J.P. (et tu, Brute?) and so on. I'll get to that later, and I won't forget Crystal Bennett, either. Or Bill Warnock. Anyways, Spence Schwarz told me one funny story about driving from Maine to New Orleans after he quit growing marijuana in Machias and boating it up to Canada, he got an air mattress and a bunch of stuff for his truck at a WalMart up north and used it all the way down and returned it all in N.O. I do think it is funny to scam WalMart, I really do, it's the least a person can do to fight back. And fuck you if you shop there, just fuck you.
To finish the homeless shoe man story, he had a wierd look in his eyes, now I think I know what it is, because I started getting that look in my eyes in Burlington because I was being watched, harassed and spooked so much. I got tension around my eyes so even if I looked down the upper lids didn't lower and you could see the whites above the iris. I didn't realize it until I got a new driver's license picture taken. So, saying this guy was part of the gang stalking, and there are other clues to let me know it is not unlikely, I do wonder who got him to do it and how, because the man was freaked. And he had two translucent Ann Taylor bags with his possessions and he stepped into a crosswalk at a different shopping center right before my car, same man with Ann Taylor bags, and he remembered me, he smirked but hardly could look at me.
I really don't mind writing about all this. I KNOW I got scammed, and I don't care if I am right about all of it, it caused me an immense amount of pain and the least I can do since not one person was ever willing to tell me even some piece of the truth, not one person, ever, at all, in that whole town, NOT ONE PERSON, and I KNOW people knew, I really don't mind laying the whole thing out and getting photos of the people involved (not that hard to do) and putting the story together in whatever way I can best figure it out. I don't mind at all. If they think it is over just because I left town they are wrong. And I figure the least I can do is lay out what gang stalking is in case it helps out anyone else in the future.
It is torture, I had pieces of phone conversations, pieces of private conversations, pieces of my private life getting dropped around and referred to, I had people mixing up their pronouns (Brian Zareva, I am not confused about you anymore, you deserve to go to prison and no wonder you were paranoid of me), referring to things in the third person or whatever so even if I was bugged I guess that was their reason even if I was bugged I still couldn't prove anything. The way it is torture is it starts to seem like everyone must know something. Innocent comments get routed through paranoia, are they talking in the third person, using a different way of referring to me? Or is this a perfectly innocent conversation?
And one thing I should lay out here is that many many targets of gang stalking commit suicide, this is known, many targets of any kind of stalking commit suicide, there are known psychological effects that it has, and so anyone participating in it, whether or not they ever get caught and prosecuted, is in very real danger of being an ACCESSORY TO MURDER, and that is a felony crime, and very very serious. And anyone who just watches it go down and leaves someone alone to deal in what is hell by themselves, well, you just suck, and you don't deserve me as a friend or a girlfriend. You know I'm talking to you. You couldn't figure out a way to talk to me? You left me alone in hell? I just spit on all men, they aren't worth it anymore (no I am not interested in being a lesbian, they annoy me and they usually are even more pussy and stupid and rude than men).
Oh my heart does feel so broken, it's the same as Straight, no one gets it, people say they wouldn't give in to Straight, they don't understand Straight, they don't understand what it is like to be a victim of gang stalking either. If anyone gets Shawn Hornbeck, it's US, STRAIGHT SURVIVORS!
And I really think a lot of people suck right now because there are people reading this (James Kochalka?) who know some shit. Gang stalking is EVERY part of the harassment, even the people, ESPECIALLY the people who thought they were helping me out by referring to shit in my presence like this or that to let me know J.P. and them really had pulled some shit on me, god you suck, fuck you for hinting around, I DON'T KNOW WHAT THEY DID. I never saw or heard the tapes of the conversations that so obviously got passed around, I have no idea, it was just hell there, a total nightmare, and if anyone wants to give me some kind of peace, I really still am in hell because I am alone, I don't know where to move where they won't find me and I just can't take it, so please contact Cassandra who can put you in touch with me because I have met her in person and she can tell me what you say or something and then I can decide if I think I will talk to you or not and she knows for sure if it is me you are talking to.
I know Straight survivors know how much pain it is at a certain point, whatever kind of nervous breakdown you have, and that scum Brian Zareva should really get something, whatever, I have to watch my words but I feel totally exploited by him and by whoever else was involved in that shit because I just wanted to go out on the town a little bit I never asked for the shit they pulled on me, it got immensely, inhumanly painful.
But on the other hand it shows me what people are really made of, I just watch and watch, like my aunt and uncle I was talking to them on the phone, I was homeless an hour away from where they live and they never invited me over, they were just like giving me suggestions of social service agencies and then they say "we love you!" and good bye. No, it really has been an eye-opener for me. I say thank you after I hang up the phone, thank you for the information of how much I actually mean to you, thank you for the information of your cold, cold ways. I LIKE seeing what people really are made of, it is INTERESTING to me, hugely disappointing, but information that I might otherwise not have gotten for years, thank you for teaching me all about America.
It is really too bad about the gang stalking because I ran into Bill the guitar player I met in Burlington, we hung out with J.P. too, and there he was busking on the downtown mall in C-ville which is so much like Burlington, and he walked me home and gave me an umbrella and said if he hears a branch snap in the woods where he is sleeping it just makes him be more alert. It just so happened that I was sitting on the back porch smoking a cigarette later and I heard a branch snap, now there are not any cats in the neighborhood making that happen, and also pebbles rolling off the car another night.
Brian Zareva, I am not through with you. You will see your name here and another place too because you and Troy and Erin Hannigan couldn't be bothered to tell me what your game was all about, changing your middle name from "Alexander" to "Thomas" and then Troy says you don't have one. It isn't any coincidence that I heard pieces of that conversation come back, Brian. And tell your girlfriend "Lassie", please tell her she is whacked but thank her for letting me know my pupils are constricted. I think someone was poisoning me, because weed does not do that.
That's all for now I guess it hurts and I never deserved any of it and I will not lay out the actually more severe incidents here because they are simply too serious, but they have been documented and sent to more than one lawyer, and every thing I remembered has been sent to lawyers, and just as I have laid out some things here, everything is getting laid out, I write down plates, makes and models, whether or not it is a coincidence that a white van with VA plates parked next to me where I am staying now, and I am not in VA anymore, I don't need to know, I don't even need to waste my time wondering, I write it down and mail it off. It's already done, I have very very sensitive radar, and although I might have been confused at the time you were fucking with my head, I heard every last word.
